Charity: A Cowboy Romance for Thanksgiving

The holiday season is approaching fast, but before you break into the Christmas romances there's still Thanksgiving. Luckily, I have a book for that, too - Charity, a short erotic-romance for the turkey season!

Charity Miller has spent her whole life in an urban island surrounded by the wilds of Montana where she’s never ventured too far from her plans. But when she heads into the Big Snowy Mountains to square a land deal one chilly November, her normally-professional self fades away. Maybe it’s the mountain air or finally quitting her diet. Or maybe it’s “real-live-cowboy” Joshua Rollings and his many attractions that has her off balance.

Whatever it is, this Thanksgiving could give her a reason to be thankful for the rest of her life.

"It will definitely put you in the Thanksgiving mood!" 
- You Gotta Read Reviews.


Excerpt:

The next morning broke bright and clear, and Charity’s mood was considerably lighter than the day before. Despite being awakened by what sounded like a very chipper Kate Rollings singing an ear-splitting song to her housekeeper about a bicycle built for two, Charity had slept quite well.

She had an odd, heavy sensation that made her limbs feel like they were filled with warm syrup, but it wasn’t unpleasant. And she had faint memories of several dreams that were less than PG-13. When Joshua showed her to the room the night before, Charity noticed the odd way he’d looked from her to the bed and then averted his eyes. Clearly it must have put some very scandalous ideas in her head. Nevertheless, the fresh, cool air inspired sleep and the dreams were satisfying enough.

The bed was huge and comfortable and the room cheerful and airy. Charity was grateful to have her own bathroom and shower and paused a moment to look out the big windows over the pasture lands while drying her hair. It wasn’t snowing and there was barely a wisp of cloud in the sky, so viewing the property in question might even be a pleasant task. When Joshua informed her that the Retreat was accessible by Jeep, instead of horseback as she’d initially feared, she almost started to look forward to it.

Over a mountainous breakfast of eggs and ham that would have made her personal trainer gag, Joshua related some of the land’s history to Charity while his mother concentrated on buttering enough toast to fill an army.

There was a lodge located on the property dating back to 1946. It had replaced the first cabin built by Eli Rollings in 1869, which, by then, had been used as a hunting camp by generations of Rollings men. Joshua told her that there wasn’t much left of the original site aside from an old stone well. It seemed the previous masters of the Rollings spread, Joshua’s grandfather and father, always suspected times would force them to sell the valuable land at some point, so they’d made sure the only thing left there was the new lodge and fond memories.

“There’s still the old grown-over sinkhole where the original outhouse used to be,” Joshua teased with a chuckle as she climbed into his four wheeled truck, “if you’d like to tour that.”

“I think I can do without that, thanks,” Charity responded with a laugh. “I’m a bit of a history buff, but more of the public television variety than the kind that snoop into pioneer plumbing or lack thereof.”

“City girl,” he teased, slamming the truck door and reaching for his seatbelt. She smiled when he finally tossed a Stetson on, thinking the image was now complete.

~*~

Available now on Kindle, Nook, and other ebook formats, for only $1.99.

Find it on GoodReads!

Charity is also available in my ebook/paperback collection, ALL I WANT: The Anne Holly-Day Collection. 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Looking for a Halloween Romance?

Available on Nook, Kindle and eBook: 
Like Magic, an erotic-romance for Halloween - now only $1.99!

Ian Hannigan was having the worst day of his life. A real estate prospect turned out to be a prank, his car has been stolen, and he’s stranded in the worst neighborhood he can imagine on Halloween night. If he believed in magic, he would swear he’d been cursed. Nothing could possibly make this day any worse or better… That is, nothing but Raven, a mysterious occult shop owner who not only claims to be a witch, but insists that she summoned him as the answer to her aching loneliness. Ian’s night just got a lot weirder. And his love life just got a lot more interesting.

18+

Snippet:


It was nearing midnight when Ian woke alone. Someone was lighting fire crackers in the alley below the window. He wondered, rather belatedly, whether the police had ever shown up and was surprised with himself for having dozed off in a strange bed on such a night. His car could be in the harbor by now, but oddly, he didn’t have the will to care. Stretching his overused back muscles, he figured the orgasms he enjoyed that night were nearly worth the loss.

He sat up in the unfamiliar bed noticing with a smile that Raven had covered him with the soft quilt before wandering off to wherever she was. It was a small gesture, but an unbelievably sweet one to a man who hadn’t been tucked in often enough as a boy. Had she kissed him on the forehead when she did it? He was willing to bet she had.

~*~
Also available in ebundle and paperback in All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection!

Thanksgiving #SampleSunday with a Giveaway!

An Sample of my contemporary western erotic-romance for Thanksgiving, Charity.

Charity Miller has spent her whole life in an urban island surrounded by the wilds of Montana where she’s never ventured too far from her plans. But when she heads into the Big Snowy Mountains to square a land deal one chilly November, her normally-professional self fades away. Maybe it’s the mountain air or finally quitting her diet. Or maybe it’s “real-live-cowboy” Joshua Rollings and his many attractions that has her off balance. Whatever it is, this Thanksgiving could give her a reason to be thankful for the rest of her life.

Excerpt:

“Real estate, huh?”

The sour-faced manageress, who'd started out with something of a neutral scowl, was now pinning ‘Charity Miller, Commercial Realtor’, with a look of open distain since looking at the Billings real estate agency business card she demanded before she’d book Charity a room.

“That’s right,” Charity confirmed, wanting desperately to sign the register and be done. It had been a long drive up into the November chill of the Big Snowy Mountains to find her way to Limping Horse, Montana, a place she’d been forced to add to her state road map by hand. By the quick glimpse of the place, there wasn’t much aside from the motel/gift shop, the gas station and a diner/tavern. Everything else must've been swallowed up by the big box stores out by the highway.

“Here to see Joshua Rollings, I suppose?” the nosy woman, whose name tag identified her as Margie, pried further.

Charity bristled at the woman’s tone and her questions. She knew small towns were notorious for their lack of privacy, but this was really going overboard. It wasn’t like her business was hyper-secretive, but she wasn’t used to having her clients’ personal activities spread over the grapevines so overtly. She settled on a bland smile, deciding the woman likely already knew Mr. Rollings had contacted her about selling off a rich portion of his 12,000-acre property. According to the report, the lot in question, known as the Hobble Gulch Retreat, boasted access to a pristine lake and the adjacent mountain range, which would surely make it attractive to the company Charity had in mind, a firm known for its trendy resorts.

Clearly the rude woman assisting her realized its sparse business would become even spottier with such a place going up in its midst, which left Charity to feel it wise not to respond either way.

“Sorry,” Margie grunted, snapping the guestbook closed. “Full up.”

“What?”

“Plumbing problems,” Margie chirped with a sniff. It was clear she was lying, but equally clear she didn’t plan on recanting.

“I called in advance!” Charity insisted. “I was told you guys don’t even take official reservations, since there’s always room.”

“Who’d you talk to?”

“I don’t know,” Charity huffed in frustration. “My assistant called. Last week.”

“Must’ve been my brother, Owen,” Margie told her as if that meant something and shrugged. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, but the rooms I have are full and the others are out for plumbing troubles. Sorry, I can’t help you.” The woman pocketed the business card in her hideous mauve cardigan and turned away.

This time tomorrow, likely everyone in town would have seen that card, Charity thought with a frown. Women like the manager loved to collect gossip materials and Charity had a feeling she’d soon be on the nasty end of a small-but-mighty Limping Horse Chamber of Commerce informal boycott as soon as Margie had a chance to spew her venom. One thing was certain; this town didn’t seem to like realtors much.

“Thanks ever so much,” Charity grumbled, pulling out the handle of her wheeled overnight bag and grabbing up her laptop and briefcase. “For nothing,” she added under her breath as she faced the icy double doors again.

No room at the inn, she thought with a sigh. So, Mr. Joshua Rollings will just have to supply room and board for the night. There was no way on earth she was going to add extra days on this trip to the middle of Godforsaken-nowhere by staying in a nearby town. She’d see the property and the paperwork, arrange for the surveyor, assess a reasonable price with the owner, and draft the listing – and then she’d be gone, back to metropolitan Billings where she belonged.

She could only hope Joshua Rollings had better manners than the old biddy who’d just tossed her out on her metaphorical fanny.

*
All weekend long: In honour of Canada's Thanksgiving (celebrated on the second Monday of October), I'm giving away a PDF copy of Charity! Leave a comment on any or all of the posts this weekend (if you're over 18) for your chance to win.

 

Charity is available as a single short in ebook, and is one of the six stories found in my new anthology All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection.

ETA: Congrats, Melissa, for winning a copy of Charity in PDF. Thanks for commenting!

Sneak Peek of Cormack's Luck for #SampleSunday

 A sneak peek at my newest story, Cormack's Luck, the exclusive St Patrick's Day addition to my Rebel Ink Press anthology All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection, available in ebook and print on October 3, 2012!

American writer Katie Cormack inherited more than a cottage from her wild Irish father, but also his wit, his stories and his family’s secret burden. Hiding away in the Irish countryside she’d always dreamed of, she communes with the fairies and beasts of her fantasy and folklore. When a local doctor comes down on her for filling his young son’s head with “nonsense”, Katie must show them both that not even St Patrick himself could drive all the dragons out of their imaginations. In the process, she might be able to reverse a wrong that has been hanging over the Cormacks for five generations, one that has brought them all together for the season of renewal.

Excerpt:

I’ve as good as slept with him. Shit.

Well, not completely shit, she had to admit. She’d needed it, really. Even as her nerves hummed over how to proceed with this awkward situation, she could feel a languid relaxation seep through her limbs. Even before her marriage had gone south two years ago, her sex life hadn’t been Hollywood quality and her dry spell since had taken its toll. This afternoon had shown her the danger of letting certain appetites go unfulfilled for too long.

For instance, you could end up having near-sex with a man who seemingly loathed you. Or one whose ancestors had been mortal enemies with your own. Or, such as in her case, a man who fell into both categories.

She heard a flush, then the tap running, and a rattle from the bathroom. Then the harsh click of the old-fashioned light switch. He didn’t emerge immediately, even with the lights out, and she wondered if he was mentally girding his loins the same way she was.

Oddly enough, though they’d just ripped into each other like deprived animals, she felt the need to armor herself with multiple layers of wool and she fidgeted to make sure everything but her hands and face were fully, primly covered. And she might have even gone for a veil if she’d had one close by.

Shutting the gate after the horse fled, clearly.

When he finally stepped out of the bedroom, she spun back to the kitchen counter. She could feel the hot flare of her blush, which likely spread from her pale toes right up to her scalp, clashing with her red curls.

“Coffee?” she managed to croak.

“Er, no.” He, too, was moving in quick, jittery movements, gathering his jacket off the divan and already standing with his hand on the doorknob. Even with her back turned and her vision limited by what she could glimpse through her nervous side-eye, she knew he was eager to flee.

Despite being in his mid-thirties, he was inching towards the door like a naughty boy caught in theft.

Clearly, she wasn’t the only one to have instant regrets now that the hormone haze had dissipated. She should have been sympathetic, but dammit, he could have been a little less obvious about the fact he found her something akin to leprosy.

When he wasn’t sticking his tongue down her throat, that is.

She shuddered to think of what he’d done. What she’d let him do. Hell, what she’d begged him to do. And, oh my, what she’d done in response!

“I suspect you’ve got lots to do...”

“Yes,” he answered a bit too quickly and with a touch of frantic gratitude. “Lots to do. You know how it is.”

“Sure.”

“Alright, then. Ta!”

And with that he was gone.

Good riddance and may I never set eyes on him again, Katie thought to herself. She rested her forehead against the cool of the kitchen cabinet above the coffee maker and wondered how the hell it had all occurred.

“I’m a grown woman,” she declared aloud. “Thirty damned years old, and independent. If I screw anything up, it’s my own fault.”

It won’t happen again, she added.

Even if Dermot Barrigan was a beautiful feast before a starving woman.

~*~

All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection

Coming October 3!

What happens when a band nerd sets his sights on the jock next door, a flighty witch thaws out a corporate stiff, or an uptown girl falls for a bartender? How about when a city slicker roughs it with a cowboy, a free spirited Spaniard seduces his calm and collected professor, or a fantasy writer teaches a no-nonsense doctor to see the magic around him?

Attraction, friction, and enough sparks to heat up the coldest winter!

Opposites attract under the spell of six different holidays in this collection of contemporary erotic romance stories from author Anne Holly, covering Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years Eve, Valentine’s Day and St Patrick’s Day.

Each story is unique, reflecting the glow and lore of the holiday that inspired it, but the collection is bound together by a single thread – the joy of taking the plunge into sizzling romance.

Love at First Bite by Jessica Coulter Smith

Today I have Sean from Love at First Bite with me.

So Brian, being gay in a small town must be hard. Have you ever wished you weren’t?

There were times in the past I wondered why I was born this way, but I’m comfortable being me. If people can’t handle the fact that I’m gay, that’s their problem, not mine.

So what’s it like being with a vampire?

Different. I can honestly say I’ve never with anyone like Brian before. But then, that isn’t just because he’s a vampire. I know the moment he enters a room, without even looking. And when he bites me – it’s incredible!

You wouldn’t change anything?

Well, the idea of growing old while he stays the same bothers me sometimes. We haven’t really discussed the possibility of him turning me, but I know it will come up in the future.

And it wouldn’t bother you to be a vampire?

Honestly? No. It would allow me to be with the man I love for eternity. What’s not to love?

You’re that certain he’s “the one”?

Oh yeah. I can honestly say that I can’t see myself with anyone else, ever. Brian is amazing, and I don’t just mean the intimacy,  but that’s pretty wonderful, too. He completes me.

 
Well, thank you for stopping by, Sean. I can’t wait to hear more about your story.

Love at First Bite by Jessica Coulter Smith

Available Now from Changeling Press

When Sean discovers Brian is a vampire, he’s ready for love at first bite.

Sean has spent his life in the small-minded town of Willow Grove. Given his preference in sexual partners, finding romance has always been a challenge – until Brian.

When Brian walks into Sam’s Place, the first thing he sees is Sean and he knows he has to have him. When he takes Sean back to his place, he reveals his true self and hopes that Sean will accept him -- fangs and all.

Excerpt

I glanced at my watch and realized I didn’t have much time before I had to be at work. With a groan, I slipped out of bed and dressed.

“What’s wrong?” Brian asked in a groggy voice.

“My car is still at the bar, and I’m going to be late for work.”

“So take mine.”

“Are you sure?” I couldn’t imagine driving the sleek machine he owned.

He chuckled. “Not like I’m going to use it anytime soon. I may not sleep all day, but I am stuck here until the sun goes down.”

“Thanks. I’ll bring it back as soon as I get off work.”

“Good.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

I warmed from the inside out at his words and knew I had a goofy grin on my face. Blowing him a kiss, I grabbed his keys and left. I had less than half an hour to go home, shower, change and get to work. I think it was safe to say I would be late.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot at work, grabbed my bag and rushed inside. I’d already called the secretary to let her know I was running behind.

Thankfully, she hadn’t asked any questions.

“Any messages, Jane?” I asked as I hurried by her desk.

“Just one, from some guy named Brian.”

I felt my face flush and grabbed the note from her. She gave me a knowing smirk as I walked off. Thank goodness Jane was cool with me being gay. If anything, it made me her favorite guy in the office. She never had to worry I would hit on her.

When I got to my desk, I put my stuff down and picked up the phone. Brian answered on the first ring.

“It’s about time,” he said playfully.

“Miss me already?”

“You bet.”

“I’ll swing by your place when I leave here, probably around five-ish.”

“Bring a change of clothes. I liked you staying the night.”

“Me too,” I murmured with a smile.

“So… I’ll see you when you get here.”

“See you then.”

He hung up and I logged into my computer. As I skimmed through my email, I saw something from my boss. When I opened it, I groaned. My project was now due tomorrow instead of next week. There was no way I could get the CAD drawings done in time. It would take a miracle. I’d been pacing myself for my original due date, not expecting such a radical change.

I picked up the phone and called Brian back. “Hey, I’ve had a change of plans.”

“Find someone hotter?” he joked.

“No, that couldn’t happen. But work did… I have a project due tomorrow that wasn’t supposed to be finished for another week. If I don’t stay and work on it, I’ll never get it finished.”

“So, I’ll bring you something to eat and we can spend a little time together later tonight.”

I smiled, glad he understood. “That would be great.”

After we hung up, I was still smiling. Not only was he excellent in the sack, but he was accepting and flexible with my work schedule. I couldn’t have asked for more in a partner. Not that we were at that stage yet. At least, I didn’t think we were. I hadn’t thought to ask when he saw clients, but I’d bet he saw them at night. Otherwise, how would he get to the office? I hoped I wasn’t cutting into his work time.

Extended Excerpt from Textbook Romance for #samplesunday

“I really don’t ever do this,” she slurred again as, two hours later, Seth opened the car door to retrieve a tipsy Libby from his beat up sedan. “I really don’t.”

“I know,” he repeated, smothering an urge to smile at her guilty face.

When Tom had asked him to take her home, Seth had jumped at the chance, aware that the older man wore a smug, scheming expression on his face, and the two men shared a moment of understanding. Tom was a keen study of human nature, and Seth had the odd feeling that the writer knew what was going through his mind regarding Libby.

Pressing a few respectable bills into Seth’s reluctant hand, Tom had said, “I doubt old Larry there will be too free with the gratuities this evening, but it’s been the most fun I’ve had in weeks.” With a chuckle, he slapped Seth on the back as he turned to usher the inebriated Libby out the door.

“I’ll be back once I drop her off,” Seth assured him.

“Don’t worry,” Tom said. “I’ll protect little Lord Larry from any would-be assassins who infiltrate my living room.”

The jovial man was still laughing at his witticism as he shut the door on the pair, and Seth had bundled Libby into his car and buckled her up.

Throughout the drive, Libby seemed close to dozing, and Seth had time to consider what he’d learned. So, Liberty Sullivan was also Andrea Harper, a name even he vaguely recognized from the bestsellers lists. It did make sense, in a weird way. There were perhaps only a handful of people who really got romance the way she did – both the good and bad versions. Perhaps she was using it as an outlet to keep her from real life, as she said she hoped other women would.

After their conversations tonight, Seth finally understood it. Libby Sullivan wasn’t just a brain, or just a beautiful woman; nor was she a spinster who just hadn’t been loved – she was a person that some bastard had hurt, badly. Now why did it occur to him that he was jealous of the man who would someday get the chance to heal her?

Was it perhaps because any woman who wrote sexy books couldn’t have given up on love as much as she pretended?

“I really don’t ever do this,” Libby said again. “Get drunk, I mean.”

“I know,” he said again, softly. He was sure she didn’t. Their moment of unexpected intimacy had rattled her so much she likely didn’t notice her host continually refilling her glass, and only an inexperienced drinker would seem so oblivious to the way wine tends to creep up on a person.

At least she wasn’t slobbering drunk – mostly tired, he thought. She was able to walk steadily enough, and she managed to dig out her own keys from the ridiculously small handbag she carried when they arrived at her home.

“Well, thanks for the lift,” she said, dismissing him.

Refusing to take the hint, Seth took her keys from her stunned hands and unlocked the front door of the comfortable two-story farmhouse, planting a firm hand on the small of her back.

“I’m okay,” she said, almost seeming panicked at the thought of him coming in with her.

He suddenly noticed how close they had gotten when he could feel the warmth of her lush breasts and belly against his front. Knowing it wasn’t gentlemanly to take advantage of drunken women, he reminded himself to back off. But her eyes, round and liquid brown in the porch light, felt like they were pulling him in.

Slowly, he lowered his head, almost against his will, until his forehead brushed against hers and he could feel the hot, nervous puff of her breath. Rubbing his nose slowly against hers for a moment, he recalled himself and pulled his head back, never breaking eye contact.

Her face was pale and startled, and, feeling guilty, he cleared his throat and turned to the door, leading her past the threshold.

“I’ll just walk you in and make sure everything is okay,” he said. “I see you left some lights on, which is really smart, but…”

Suddenly, a reedy, excited voice echoed through the front hall, as a small boy in blue pajamas bolted in from the living room. “Mom!” the child shouted as he launched himself at her.

Hoisting him up, somewhat unsteadily, Libby pasted a bright smile on her drowsy face and shot a warning glance at Seth as she passed by him into the house.

“He was an angel, as usual,” an older woman said as she gathered up a bright pile of children’s books on the sofa. “But, he did refuse to go to bed until you came home.”

“I wasn’t tired,” the boy explained as his mother lowered him to his feet, rubbing his eyes in contradiction to his words. “I want to hear more about Charlotte.”

“I’m reading him Charlotte’s Web,” Libby explained to Seth briefly. “As you can see, I’m fine…”

“Who’s he?” Charlie asked, with the equanimity only children can ever achieve, as if he were completely unfazed by meeting a strange man in his living room.

“Hi,” Seth said. “I’m Seth – I know your mom from school.”

“Hi, Seth,” Charlie nodded, hiding his sleepiness but not his interest. “I’m Charlie, and I’m going to be eight soon.”

“In about five months...” Libby added out of habit.

“That’s a great age!” Seth enthused.

“Well, I think it’s time for bed,” Libby hinted to both males.

Again failing to take the bait, Seth shrugged. “Why don’t I go in and start some coffee…”

“And I should be getting on,” the woman said, cheerfully. “If I’m not home by ten, Henry might get himself another girl.”

“Thanks so much, Margaret,” Libby said, discreetly handing the woman some money as she saw her to the door. Seth wandered into the kitchen, and Libby relented and followed an exhausted Charlie up to his room.

Only three pages later, her son was out like a light, and Libby was wishing Seth was gone so she could follow suit.

But, as she returned downstairs to the smell of coffee, she had to admit it sounded like a good idea. Never a heavy drinker, alcohol always had the effect of sleepiness on her. She never managed to achieve that sense of happy euphoria so many seemed to get off booze.

“Everything okay?” Seth asked, placing a tomato-cheese sandwich and a mug of coffee on the table for her.

“Oh, yes. He just doesn’t like to sleep until I’m home, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nostalgic smile. “Kelsey, my daughter, used to be like that, too. Of course, now she’s fifteen and couldn’t care less. It’s tough being a single parent; especially when they’re teens, because then they have no one else to consider the enemy but you.”

She sat at the table, smiling awkwardly, aware he’d just unsubtly announced his single status. Suddenly her stomach growled, and she realized the sandwich was just what she needed. Foolishly, she hadn’t had any food at the party, which likely explained the quick effects of the wine.

“Aren’t you going to have one…?” she offered.

“Ah, no,” he said. “I’d love to, but I have a stuffed shirt to shepherd back to his hotel. You know, in case Al Qaeda comes after him.” Smiling, he picked up his suit jacket from the back of her chair, brushing against her arm. “But I’m happy to take you up on it some other time…?”

Confused, she wondered what he was talking about.

“Coffee? Sometime soon… We can even wait until term is over, if you want, so people don’t think I’m sleeping my way to an A.”

“But you are getting an A…” she responded, bemusedly.

“Fine, then,” he shrugged with a grin. “Then maybe tomorrow, after class?”

“For what?”

“I want to take you out, Libby,” he said, bluntly. “So, I’m asking you to go out. With me. Soon. Starting with coffee.”

“Well…”

“And I should warn you, I might not easily take no for an answer on this one.”

“Why not?”

“Shall we call it Love at First Sight?” he said, without a hint of humor.

Libby could only cough in surprise.

Smiling at her, he said, “Eat your sandwich, and lock up after me.” And then he was gone, and Libby stared at her snack in bewilderment.

And realized she’d just made a date.

A date with someone she thought she found irresistible.

Some women might be thrilled at that moment. For Libby, it was a disaster waiting to happen.


~*~
Available now in Kindle, Nook, ebook, and paperback.

For more information, please see the book's website.

#samplesunday: A Scene from Like Magic

An excerpt from my paranormal/contemporary erotic-romance for Halloween, Like Magic.

Ian Hannigan was having the worst day of his life. A real estate prospect turned out to be a prank, his car has been stolen, and he’s stranded in the worst neighborhood he can imagine on Halloween night. If he believed in magic, he would swear he’d been cursed. Nothing could possibly make this day any worse or better… That is, nothing but Raven, a mysterious occult shop owner who not only claims to be a witch, but insists that she summoned him as the answer to her aching loneliness. Ian’s night just got a lot weirder. And his love life just got a lot more interesting.

~*~

“This ritual will make sure that, if we are meant to be together, we’ll return to each other if we’re parted,” she whispered, the look on her face telling him she recognized their parting was inevitable.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, as they’d promised each other only that one night. Instead of speaking, he took her hand again and pressed a kiss to the tender skin of her wrist and then pulled her into his lap. He was there now and that would have to be enough. He sent whatever had brought him to her a silent word of thanks though it was inarticulate in his mind.

As if sensing his speechlessness, Raven merely smiled and looked at their entwined fingers. She turned his hand over in her own, as if noting the relative size and roughness of his palm in comparison with her own.

“Will I meet a tall, dark stranger?” he joked, looking into the lines in his hand.

“You have a long life,” she said. “Longer than you know – longer than before your birth, and after your life. You have an old soul.”

“The matron at one of my group homes used to say that,” he smiled. “But just because I was always a little bit tight-assed and not very happy as a child.”

“Why was that?”

Ian tilted his head in an effort to dismiss the stories of his youth, which weren’t incredibly pleasant, but also not very interesting. Before adulthood, his life had mostly consisted of boredom and waiting.

“My mother died when I was young. I never knew my father.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t a great deal to be happy about, really.”

“Now, though?” she said, looking back at the lines. “I think you’re satisfied in some ways, but not in others. You’re ambitious and you do well, but you’re occasionally unlucky especially with your love life. You’ve done a lot for yourself, though.”

Ian was increasingly uncomfortable with her inspection, feeling bare to her eyes.

“Enough about me,” he said lightly to cover up the quick way he yanked his hand from hers. “How about you?”

Raven smiled as if she knew why he stopped her, but was unruffled by his reluctance to tell her more. She produced her palm to him with a good natured chuckle.

“My life is an open book. Be my guest.”

“Oh no,” he said. “I don’t read palms.” She squealed as he grabbed her and started to plaster her neck and shoulders with kisses. “Ear lobes, maybe,” he said in a muffled voice as he took possession of her ear with his lips. “Ahh! You will indeed meet a tall, dark stranger,” he confirmed. “And you two will fuck like bunnies all... night... long...”
*
Available Now!

This story will be included in the paperback/ebundle anthology All I Want: The Anne Holly-Day Collection, releasing October 3, 2012.

We're seeking reviews and promo opportunities for Like Magic this October. If you're interested in helping spread the word for Halloween, please email anneholly2010@gmail.com, and include a link to your site or blog. (18+, non-YA blogs/sites, only, please.)

#samplesunday: Textbook Romance

A romantic date moment from Textbook Romance...

“The only stupid question is the one gone unasked,” Seth read from his cookie.

“I hate that fortune cookies are more like advice now than actual fortunes,” she complained. “Where are the ‘you will meet a tall dark stranger’ ones?”

“What was yours?”

“Love is for the fortunate, but especially for the courageous,” she read.

“Sounds like a good prediction to me,” Seth said, popping some cookie shell into his mouth and looking at her meaningfully.

“Who, me?” she said, feeling a nervous flutter under her ribs.

“Look, Libby…” he paused, as if searching for the right words, “I know you’ve been hurt before…”

“You think I’m afraid?”

“Well, it makes sense to fear something that burned you once,” he said.

“Maybe I just came to a logical conclusion,” she suggested, smarting from his insight.

“Maybe,” he agreed. “Maybe you’re brighter than the rest of us, and love is for masochists. But I also know that it can sneak up on a person, and not give you the choice, sometimes.”

Libby stayed quiet for a moment, barely breathing with anticipation.

“You know what I want?” he mused.

“What?” she whispered, breathlessly, leaning towards him.

“Popcorn and ice cream,” he said with a wink, hopping up from the sofa. “You in?”

Seth laughed evilly as the throw pillow she flung at him hit him square in the back. He returned shortly, arms filled with junk food, and two spoons.

“Why dirty the bowls?” he shrugged, and opened the tub of ice cream.

“My thoughts exactly,” she said as she dug in, nearly moaning with the joy of cherry mixed with chocolaty, chewy richness.

“Oh, to be that spoon,” he whispered as her tongue cleaned off every last trace of ice cream.

The movie had ended, but neither of them had thought to put in another as they sat together companionably. Libby smiled at him, and said impulsively, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me, too.”

“This is so much better than sitting here alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” he snorted.

“You know what I mean!” She landed a playful swat on his shoulder. “It’s fun to hang out with you.”

“More wine?” he offered, refilling his own glass.

“Does white wine go with cherry-chocolate?” she asked, and held her glass to him.

“At this point, I think it’ll go with anything.”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked accusingly.

“Nope,” he said. “I want you to remember what a great time we’re having. Maybe on a bad date I will, though, so you can forget it.”

“Do you suppose there will be one?”

“A bad date? Very likely,” he said and shrugged, unconcerned. “It happens.”

“So… We’ll do this again, then?” Libby chewed on her lip and watched her wine bubbles in the glass for a moment.

“Yes,” he answered with certainty. “I don’t want us to stop, if that’s what you mean. Now, eat your ice cream,” he said, moving them back to lighter conversation with a smile.

“You want some?” she asked, holding a spoonful out to him, looking innocent. But as he leaned in to take the rather large dollop into his mouth, she jerked the spoon, painting his nose with sweet pink goo.

“You brat!” he yelped, and took her wrist in his grip. “You want some of that, too? It’s pretty cold.” Twisting her arm towards her own laughing face, he smeared the frosty mess all along her chin.

“Seth!” she squealed, trying to defend herself from the onslaught while being paralyzed with giggles. “I’m sorry!”

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” he growled, taking aim at her cheek. “No mercy!”

He couldn’t contain his amusement, either, and they collapsed together, both covered in melted ice cream.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed, and their laughter trailed off in deep breaths as he consumed her face with his intense gaze.

“Seth…” she whispered.

Chase after love? As a single mother, Professor Liberty Sullivan knows better. Between her flighty mother and a disastrous history with men, she's pretty much soured on the whole concept of romance. Personal freedom and self-reliance are her new guiding mantras. Raising her son and being a career star are the most important things now.

Then she meets Seth.

An ex-cop who’s making a new life for himself and his daughter, Seth Webster has every reason to play it safe. Then he meets Liberty. Prickly about love, following some crazy anti-romance curriculum, she still makes Seth's heart pound. And a lifetime of cop instinct tells him he's about to teach Liberty that this romance will be anything but by the book.

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